Here Comes The Bride
by ArWen of sMirkwood
Summary: A light-hearted attempt to flesh out the very brief bit about Aragorn's wedding that Tolkien had. Please,please review!


Disclaimer: All characters used here belong to J R R Tolkien *sniff* and…well, I'm just stealing them for a while. Oh, and some of the text is borrowed from ROTK, which you ppl will recognize I suppose, but it was for the sake of authenticity.

Summary:

I thought the wedding scene was incredibly (and too) short, so I've attempted to flesh it out a bit. A bit OOC. 

Please read and comment! Thanks!

                                _Here comes the bride,_

_                               All dressed in white……   _

Here Comes the Bride

I sat by the fountain where I had planted the Galathilion sapling. It was now a robust young tree, and the white and pink blossoms were most enchanting to behold, but now it was the last thing on my mind.

My mind was on those that I was expecting. Where were they? Why were they taking so long to ride hither? Had they not received my message?

I was in mid-sigh when messengers came from Amon Din to the fountain.

            "Your Majesty, a riding of the fair folk has been sighted riding out of the North, and they draw near to the walls of the Pelennor."

            I sat up straight instantly. "At last they have come. Let the city be all made ready." The messenger nodded and left. 

            I turned to the hobbits who were sitting quietly by me, talking and laughing in their merry hobbit voices, and I envied their carefree manner. "Would all of you help to prepare the City?"

            "Certainly!" Pippin piped up cheerfully," But prepare for what?"

            I smiled fondly at the hobbit. Dear Pippin, always so irrepressibly cheerful. To look at the mirth on his face, one would never have guessed that he had smote the Witchking and had been almost overcome by the Black Breath.

            "Well, you shall see, my friend. You shall see." I gave them my most enigmatic, secretive smile, just to annoy them. Frodo looked at me curiously. Winking at him I went off to find Legolas and Gimli, who were pottering about in the garden, drawing in the soil with sticks. Sometimes they do the strangest things.

            "I need your help," I grabbed their arms, "Come with me." I literally dragged both of them to my chamber.

            "What is it, Aragorn?" Gimli grumbled, "I was just beginning to show Legolas the Glittering Caves." He indicated his sketches in the dirt.

            "You can show him later, this is _much more important."_

            "What is?" Legolas asked curiously.

            "Help me pick out the best outfit to wear, for Undomiel is coming. Ought I not look the best on this important day?"

            A look of comprehension dawned on Legolas's face. "Ah, now I see what we have all waited for. Worry not, she will be so pleased to see you that she will not notice what you wear."

            I sat down undignifiedly with a loud sigh. Gimli went to route through whatever clothes that he could find for me. 

            "Just wear that clean outfit you brought in your pack," Legolas suggested unhelpfully.

            I rolled my eyes.

            "You have no other clothes to wear! All your other outfits are worn. And in need of repair.  Don't tell me that you will wear Denethor or Boromir or Faramir's outfit!"

            "Actually, that is not such a bad idea," I said, snapping my fingers, "Legolas, you are brilliant!" I gave the surprised Elf a squeeze. "I rather liked what Boromir wore at the Council of Elrond. Perhaps he has another one like it."

            This time it was Legolas's turn to roll his eyes.

            "This is what I could find, Aragorn," Gimli appeared holding a heap of clothes, but the clothes were too long and trailed on the floor, so that Gimli kept tripping in them. He dropped the whole collection on the floor. He disappeared and then came back holding another heap. In fact, he had to make a few trips, and by the time he had finished, it looked like Mt Doom itself had come forth from Mordor into the room. 

            "Where did you get all these raiment?" I asked, gazing at the truly colossal collection.

            "Boromir has—had--- a walk-in wardrobe that was probably the size of Isengard," Gimli said with a sigh, "and Denethor has—had—one that is probably the size of Mordor itself." He stretched out his hands to indicate the size.

            There was a good selection of tunics, cloaks, pants and undershirts, and a whole assortment of different colours. Maroon, navy blue, royal purple, black, lavender, gold, silver, grey, brown, forest green… There was even blood red, lime green, and bright yellow, and, worst of all, a very feminine hot pink. Of all the worst, that must be it. There was also an undershirt that was of the colours of the rainbow. I beheld it in amazement. Will wonders never cease? I wondered why in the world the two men would need so many clothes for themselves. They must have been rich to have so much clothing. The amount would have been able to last me three of my already-long lifetimes!

I put away the rainbow undershirt. By no means was I going to have anyone mistake me for a rainbow fallen out of the sky.

I rummaged through the pile, holding them up against myself in front of the mirror, and tried different combinations.  Legolas and Gimli watched with great interest. I discarded garment after garment, tossing them behind me, and eliciting indignant howls and cries from my friends.  Faramir came in, holding a set of folded clothing.

            "This was Boro…Boromir's best clothing." He said quietly, with a catch in his voice. "Maybe you would like to put them on. He will not need them anymore."

            I smiled gently at him. "Thank you." I slowly and reverently unfolded the clothing, wanting to respect Boromir's memory. Why, it was a most beautiful, rich, elegant set of clothing. The fabric was velvety and smooth to the touch, and it had a collar of gold set with a diamond. It was slightly loose, considering that Boromir was broader in build than I. I waved my companions away as I put them on. I liked what I saw, very much indeed. The cloak flowed majestically around my body, though there was no need for it, not in the summer heat, but nonetheless I liked it.

            "This will be perfect." I said, when Legolas and Gimli came back in. Faramir had disappeared somewhere. " Now, I must do something about this mop of hair…" I grabbed one of my dark locks. No matter what I did with my hair, it always was flyaway and unruly.

            "I can help you with that," Legolas said as he grabbed some of my hair. Repulsed, he let go of it. "Valar, I never knew such greasy hair! First you will need to wash it properly. Come." Holding some of my hair he physically pulled me to the basin in the bathroom.

            "YOOWWLLL!" I yelled out, glaring at Legolas. A smile was tugging on his lips. I suspected that he was enjoying this. He pushed my head into the basin and turned on the water, and it seemed like forever as he washed my hair with some of his shampoo (how did he manage to have kept his shampoo all this way from Rivendell?), scrubbing a little too hard, and I scowled. If there was one thing I hated, it was having someone else wash my hair. 

            "Stop squirming, Aragorn, or you will have soap suds in your eyes and mouth, and you will _not like that." He turned the water on me and worked his long slender fingers through my hair, massaging and scratching my scalp vigorously._

            Then he commanded me to sit while my hair was drying. I watched him as he mixed a queer collection of herbs and grasses into what looked like a poultice.

            "What on Middle-Earth is that?" I asked, looking into the foul-looking black mixture. Divulging nothing, Legolas rubbed it evenly into my hair, and bid me sit for a while. 

To my surprise, for all the evil look of it, the poultice smelled very pleasant indeed. It emitted a very pleasing fragrance, and reminded me of the _elanor and  __niphredil of Lothlorien, and a mix of __athelas  and something else that I could not identify. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply the sweet, heady fragrance. It seemed to me that I was now in a beautiful grassy vale, surrounded by flower-strewn slopes. Then my eyes flew open, for abruptly there was the most disgusting and foulest odour that I had ever experienced. It smelt of rotting eggs and carcasses and a cesspit, and much worse things that I could not put my finger on. I gasped and covered my nose and mouth with a handkerchief, for it seemed as though the whole room reeked of intoxicating fumes. Gimli looked most disgusted and had buried his face in the quilt. Legolas had tied a scarf round his nose and mouth. What new devilry was this?_

But the worst was yet to come! I began to experience a most horrid sensation. It felt as though something was crawling through my scalp, creating a most terrible itch. I looked petrified at Legolas and reached up my hands to scratch my scalp. Legolas shook his head vigorously and vehemently, warning me not to do that. Now it felt as though some kind of snake or worm or whatever was wriggling through my hair. I sat down on my hands to keep myself from scratching and squeezed my eyes shut against the gruesome images of all the insects and worms and snakes and creepy-crawlies that seemed to be wandering over my scalp.

To my great relief, the sensation slowly ebbed away. Legolas removed the scarf from his face and inspected my hair. Then he washed the stuff out, and combed my hair neatly. I looked in the mirror again and nearly fell from the chair. My hair had become totally straight, somewhat like the traitor Saruman's, and it was rather shiny (it was so shiny, it almost flared like one of the lit beacons of Minas Tirith), and terribly flat. A little _too flat._

            Gimli raised his head and wrinkled his nose and gagged at the last of the odour that lingered in the air.

"Legolas…" I felt like strangling him, but it would have done no good anyway.

           "What? Did you not want your hair tamed? I did just that." Legolas patted his own super-straight, glossy blond locks, all innocent and demure. "See, your hair is as neat as mine now."

            I debated between throwing him down from one of the walls and dunking him in the fountain, then decided against it.

            "Do you want braids like mine?" Legolas continued.

            "No thank you," I wrinkled my nose. Gimli's hand was clapped over his mouth, and his shoulders were shaking a little as though he was laughing.

            "What _was that, Legolas?" I asked, barely concealing the anger in my voice._

            "Nothing much."

            "Legolas Greenleaf, that was the worst thing that I have seen, or smelt, or felt!"

            "At least the fragrance lasted a little longer than the last time I tried this. I have been trying to perfect this for a long time. You would have fainted from the fumes had you been one of my previous experiments." Legolas defended himself, that irritating angelic look still on his face, his fingers twirling a lock of his golden hair.

            I turned my heel and stomped out, deciding to wait by the walls. Maybe the wind would have a nullifying effect, and make my hair a little flyaway again, so that it did not look overly straight. Legolas sat on the ledge beside me, dangling his slender, well-defined muscular legs, while Gimli hovered around us. Around us were some of the Men of Minas Tirith, and some of the maidens as well. Their gazes were all fixed on the Elf. One could hardly blame them, for they had never seen an Elf in their entire life, and indeed my friend was fairer of face than all the men of Minas Tirith, and Rohan too, for that matter.  The men's glares burnt into the back of Legolas. At this moment his delicate features were set in a faraway look. I wondered what he was thinking of. Gimli was stumping around, feeling the stonework, speaking about what he would do to improve the stonework to anyone who would listen( which at the moment was none).

            Legolas impatiently pushed his hair out of his face for the hundredth(thousandth?) time.

            "Why do you not cut all your hair off? Then you will have no more trouble with it," I suggested.

            Legolas looked mortified at the idea. "Cut off my hair? Whoever heard of an Elf without braids and with a head like a pineapple?"

            "You will be the first, then, to set the trend for Elves," Gimli interjected, his deep grey eyes twinkling, "I volunteer to help you with that!" 

            But Legolas was not listening. "And the Sun is too hot. I will get sunburn soon if I stay out here much longer,"he groused.

            "An Elf with a suntan is very attractive to the opposite sex, Legolas," I joked.

            "Nay, whoever heard of a dark-skinned elf?" Legolas said, "But is what you said true, Aragorn?"

            "Yes indeed, my friend," said I ," See how the women of Minas Tirith admire you! They will admire you more if you get a suntan." Gimli laughed out loud at that, and colour rose to Legolas's cheeks. Seriously, I wondered why he was still not attached, given his royal lineage, and his looks. Even I had managed to attract Arwen, Evenstar of her people. I wondered how many suitors the Prince of Mirkwood had turned down. Or did he have some unspeakable problem?

            I turned to the sky. Evening was descending upon us. The West was still golden and the air sweet and fragrant, and the sinking sun, orange in the golden sky. Then I caught the sound that I had long awaited---the clatter of hooves. Elladan and Elrohir appeared, bearing a banner of silver. I stood upright. Behind them were Glorfindel, Erestor and the others belonging to Elrond's household, and then the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, and the elves of their realm. My spirits rose at the sight of them. But my eyes wandered beyond them, searching for the one I was truly looking for.

            Elrond was last, holding the scepter of Annuminas, but that was not what was foremost on my mind. Beside Elrond was my beloved, whom I had waited so long for, upon a grey palfrey.

            Stars were woven on Arwen's brow, and even from a distance I could detect the fragrant smell emanating from her (the fragrance of alyssums, my favourite flower). Her dark hair, let loose, streamed onto her shoulders like a river in the night reflecting the moonlight, and her pale lilac gown sat snugly on her figure, setting off her ivory complexion and the soft curves of her body. The soft, gauzy fabric billowed in the breeze, making it seem as though she was an angel who was floating.

            My eyes riveted on her, I strode towards her.

            Someone cleared his throat subtly, and guiltily I turned towards Elrond. I had forgotten about the existence of everybody else. 

            I welcomed all of the guests to the city in an appropriate manner, and they alighted from their horses.

            "You have at last come into your own, my son," Elrond said softly, gazing at me with a smile on his face," And I can no longer withhold this from you. You have rightly and justly earned it." With that he surrendered the scepter of Annuminas to me. I accepted it and bowed.

            "With you claiming your throneship, I will give you my blessings in taking the hand of my daughter Arwen Undomiel. May this union be blessed," Elrond continued, his face now grave, and he sighed. He laid the hand of Arwen into my hand. "And if you should mistreat her in any way…"

            "As a father you have been to me for so long, and I am deeply grateful to you for your past kindnesses. Rest assured that I will treasure Arwen, and treat her as should be." Valar, I had waited for so long and laboured for all these long years, just to claim my prize and reward, and thus certainly I meant to treasure Arwen.

            Then Arwen and I, hand in hand, began the walk up into the High City, as was the custom. Our eyes were fixed upon each other.

            "Estel, what did you do with your hair?" she asked softly as she reached out to straighten it. "It looks strange."

            I silently swore to strangle Legolas with my bare hands when I had the opportunity to.

            "I tried to have it straightened, but Legolas did it _too well," I mumbled, feeling heat rise in my cheeks._

            "That sounds just like him," she laughed, her musical laughter like the tinkling of bells in the wind. 

            We went up into the High City, and all the stars flowered in the sky. It was one of the most enchanting sight that I had ever beheld. The whole sky seemed to light up just by the starlight alone. Coupled with Gandalf's excellent fireworks, the City seemed to glow with a life and light of its own, despite the ruins and gloom that Sauron's servants had caused.

            Beneath us, the City stood bathed in the soft, warm lights from the lanterns hung along the streets. Today was my day, that I had worked so hard and waited so long for. Staring deeply into Arwen's grey eyes, alight with happiness, I felt that I could drown in them. They were smiling, and young. I secretly wished that we could sit here for eternity like this, even if it was only to stare into her eyes. Only her eyes could have such hypnotic, intoxicating power.

            "Aragorn, perhaps you do not know better, but it is the custom for the groom to kiss the bride, particularly for royalty."

            Startled, we spun around. It was Legolas who had said that, loud and clearly.

            Kiss Arwen ? I would have been very pleased to do so, usually, but not in front of so many. Kiss her in front of the whole of Middle Earth(practically)? Arwen and I had shared a most passionate and wonderful kiss in Rivendell, but that had been under the cover of dark, and it had been alone. Was what Legolas had said true? Why had Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir not mentioned it before?

            I was sure that my face was redder than a tomato. Elves and Men that were beneath us looked slightly amused, and there was a wide grin on Legolas' face. Gimli was hiding his mouth under his hand.

            "Why do you hesitate, Aragorn? Do you not love Evenstar?" Gimli shouted. Arwen leaned towards me slightly as if she, too, was expecting a kiss from me.

            "Here goes nothing," I thought as our lips met briefly. Then Minas Tirith was drowned in a sea of clapping and cheering.

            "The celebrations shall now begin," I announced, "Let all of us eat, drink, dance, sing and be merry, to celebrate the downfall of the Dark Lord!" 

            The crowd of guests dispersed, all chattering at once, and spread out into the streets of the City. Turning back to my beloved, we walked down into the City and circulated around the guests. The Elves had brought harps and flutes, and soon many of the familiar Elvish songs that I had grown up hearing were sung, the sweet and pleasant music attracting the attention of the people of Minas Tirith as they stood listening to the fair elvish songs in wonder. Added to it were the songs of the Galadhrim.

            Others weaved their way in and out among the tables, on which was laden a fine spread, almost good enough to rival with the tables of Elrond. Fine-looking cuisines, which gave out the most tantalizing, appetizing and tempting smells, were laid out, and there were fine wines and beer. I wondered how on Middle Earth they could have come up with such fine food . Per haps it was their best stores. The plates of many were heaped with generous helpings of the delicacies.

            As Arwen and I walked on, many of the people of Minas Tirith stopped to bow to us, and elves that we met congratulated and praised me.

            Children ran around playing games, and I was glad to note that some of the children were already talking and playing with the elflings of Rivendell and Lorien. Perhaps, I hope, this would mark the end of the long estrangement between Men and Elves.

            I came upon Elrond my father, who was sitting with Glorfindel, Erestor, the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, huddled together as if deep in conversation. I always have not comprehended what it is that they talk so much of. What is so important that they always have to sit in a close circle like this, their faces grave? One would think that it was the end of the world. But this time to my surprise, I saw that they were playing a drinking game. They were being uncharacteristically loud and boisterous, and laughing and talking. The Lady might be wise and powerful, but it seemed that she was no good at drinking games, and she seemed to be downing goblet after goblet of wine, and her face was getting a little flushed. 

            Father smiled up at me when he realized that Arwen and I were standing there. All of them stood and shook hands with me( with the Lady swaying a little on her feet), and wished us eternal bliss. Without warning, Galadriel suddenly swooned and slumped onto the floor. I hastily reached out and caught her by her shoulders before she did land on the floor

"Darling Celly!" She threw her arms around me and planted a wet kiss upon my face.

Celly?! CELLY? Was that her pet name for Celeborn? I froze there as though the ill will of Caradhras had caught me right there and then, and cringed, for the Lady's  breath reeked of alcohol, and her face was flushed.

Celeborn quickly took hold of his wife from me, his face tinged with red. Elrond's lips were twitching; Erestor and Glorfindel simply looked mortified. 

"Begging your pardon, Elessar, she…um…" Celeborn stumbled over his words.

"It is all right," I said in a rush, "perhaps the Lady should retire to bed…"

"Come, we are going _right now," Celeborn said firmly as he guided his wife off._

Then we moved on, and I saw Elladan and Elrohir.

            "You have done well, Estel," Elladan said as he gave me a warm embrace, "We are very proud of you."

            "Don't go wandering around so much or you might run into trouble. What would Arwen do then?" Elrohir teased, ruffling my hair. I pretended to punch him, then remembered that I was now a king, and abashed retracted my arm. It is terribly hard to act grown-up around these two.

            Some distance away I spotted the hobbits sitting with Gandalf, and they were smoking some pipeweed. Of course I went up to them. Who would miss a good whiff of that marvelous smoke? Arwen wrinkled her nose.

            "Estel, I do wish you wouldn't smoke,"she groused, "I will be speaking with Haldir, if you want me." Haldir was talking with Legolas and a bored-looking Gimli across the courtyard.

            I nodded and sat by my friends, puffing away at the pipe that Gandalf offered. A good smoke can be more tempting than a woman sometimes.

"Strider, congratulations," Pippin said earnestly. Merry thumped him in the head.

"THE King Elessar, not Strider!" Merry hissed to his cousin.

To hell with all these names! I really don't like having so many aliases. Why couldn't I be just plain Elessar or Aragorn? Telcontar, Wingfoot, Dunadan and Valar knows what else, I've so many aliases that I can't even remember them all. But of the worst names there are, I've got to be called Strider. *shudder* Next I know, they'll be calling me Bigstep or something.

Then Elrond my father came to us, and spoke softly to Gandalf. Both of them clapped their hands for attention.

"All ye guests, we propose a toast to Elessar, King of Arnor and Gondor!"

Everyone held up their mugs or glasses and shouted, "Long live the King Elessar and Queen Undomiel!"

I know I shouldn't be vain, but this felt really really good. Which Man would not like to be held in adulation like this?

"I thank all of you once again for gracing this special occasion," I lifted my voice in a shout. There was immediate silence and everyone listened. Man, this does feel good! "I regret though to announce that my beloved and I shall be retiring to our room to rest for the night. Please continue to make merry!" I latched my hand onto Evenstar's, and we began to turn towards our room. I looked around for my friends. Legolas was smiling at me, face filled with mirth, and I returned the smile. It was good to see him cheerful again, for he had been even quieter than usual and rather melancholy since the sea-awakening had arisen in him. He was taking long sips of wine, and mayhap that had brought about his mirth. I fervently hoped that he would not get drunk, too. A drunk she-elf was bad enough. Did all elves act like that when they were drunk? Despite all my years at Rivendell, I had yet to see any Elf drunk

Gimli winked at me. I gave them a wave and led the way to our room.

Alone at last! Arwen and I changed into nightwear and lay upon the bed. Then Arwen let out a shriek and leapt out of bed.

"What is it?" I was alarmed, taking the golden opportunity to put my arms around Arwen.

"A…a cockroach," Arwen stammered, and quaked in my arms, "and look at that spider!"

The door flew open suddenly and the hobbits looked in, grinning mischievously, and Gimli too.

"A nice surprise,eh?" Gimli grinned.

"Out!" I shouted, throwing the cockroach , spider and the lizard and the whole menagerie of insects into the hobbits who ran away still laughing, "Beloved, they were fake ones, fear not."

Arwen let out her breath and lay down on the bed again. I lay down too, next to her, and circled her petite frame with my arm.

"Not tonight, Estel, I am so tired."

"As you wish, beloved. We have many days together yet," I answered as I brushed away a stray lock and kissed her cheek.

"Mmmmm," Arwen murmured sleepily. She turned her face towards mine as she gently kissed me. "Do you know why they were all so amused when Legolas mentioned kissing me?"

"Why?"I asked, feeling stupid.

"They were laughing at your embarrassment."

I did not know what to say.

Arwen smiled gently at me. "Silly man."

Then we gazed deeply into each others' eyes for long.

"I am sorry, beloved, for with this pledge I have taken you away from your people and your immortal life," I finally said. The idea of Arwen giving up her immortality for me was not a nice thing to bear. I felt like I owed her a heavy debt, one that could never be repaid.

"Don't be sorry," Undomiel said softly. She snuggled up to me and laid her head on my chest. I watched while her breathing grew deep and even, echoing that of a sleeping Elf. Her open eyes were unfocused, and her chest rose up and down with every breath.

I gently brushed her face with my hand, the ivory skin smooth and soft as velvet, flawless and unmarred by age or skin problems. I silently vowed to be good to her, and watch over her as long as I could, and love her even more than Sauron loved his One Ring.

I kissed her forehead tenderly, and rested my head against the plump pillow. 

This was the perfect ending to a perfect day, and somehow I knew that we would be together in bliss for a long time yet.

I felt a contented smile tug at the ends of my lips as I drifted off to sleep.

The End


End file.
